As a young girl, I liked bugs, especially lady bugs. When I caught one, I’d shiver as its soft feet crawled up my arm. Bugs have no scent, at least to me. I checked.
Surely bees were different. Their feet touched every flower growing in my West Texas yard. I knew bees stung. I’d felt the sting of wasps, so I wanted to avoid that pain; but bees fascinated me. One day, I caught one in my hand and it stung me. Fear kicked in, I squished it. I had to look. There in the palm of my hand, lying on its back, was the dead bee. Its six legs splayed, the back pair still powdered with pollen. Yup, I sniffed. To my disappointment, I couldn’t detect the slightest scent. I cupped my hands together and flung the fuzzy creature away, hoping it would fly again. It dropped to the ground. I learned three important things: bees sting when captured; if there is scent on bees’ feet, maybe only other bees can know that; and, my fear and reaction to pain, can hurt others.
Today is the day I hope to launch my website “Wise Issues.” Most of what I post will be short stories I’ve written over the years, similar to what’s written above. Several stories belong to my mother, and I am blessed to remember them. I may have added my own spin because I can’t recall her exact words, but her spirit is in them. It would be a shame not to share. Please click on the “Stories” tab and several should drop down. Comment if you want, but mostly I just want people to enjoy reading them.
I’ll be writing again very soon.
Jan